


Foolishly Forget

by ensorcel



Category: Military Wives (2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ensorcel/pseuds/ensorcel
Summary: Kate's only ever had one tally. Lisa's got six. Then, a red line slips its way onto Kate's wrist.A study about loss, love, and choice. (Soulmate tally alternate universe.)
Relationships: Kate Barkley & Lisa Lawson, Kate Barkley/Lisa Lawson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Foolishly Forget

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/gifts).



> Blame [atlantisairlock's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock) for this. It's all her fault ;)

_A red tally was unrequited love. A black tally was requited love. A scar meant a soulmate was dead._

Kate had one tally. A single, black strip on her right wrist, sometimes of which was covered up by a watch or a bracelet. Richard too, only had one tally. 

Before she’d met Richard, when she was younger, she’d watch her classmates with three, four, five, tallies and almost seethe in jealousy. Her wrist remained stupidly blank until she was eighteen when the young boy down the street of which she’d grown up with showed up as a handsome young man and all of a sudden, Kate was Katie, and she had a red tally on her arm. 

One morning, a warm, sunny morning, Kate watched as the red turned to black, a proud dark strip on her arm and she didn’t think twice before racing over to Richard’s, kissing him hard. 

They were married within a month. 

The first thing Kate noticed about Lisa were her tallies. Six, sharp, distinct lines on her wrist, all black, all the same, and a rage she hadn’t felt in years simmered up, threatening to boil over. 

Kate hated Lisa’s tallies. 

She thought she hated Lisa’s carefree attitude to, well, anything, and her annoyance at Kate for trying to get the wives to do something and the way she looked at Kate with distain, but the minute Kate caught eye of Lisa’s fucking tallies all of that went away. It was the first time she felt anything since Jamie’s death. 

But as much as she’d tried to ignore, as much as she hated it, she needed Lisa to get the other wives to listen, because Kate knew as much as anyone else, that Lisa was easier to like than her. So, she ignored those six black tallies, hoped each day Lisa would wear a goddamn bracelet for once, and tried not to wince at some of the godawful suggestions the other women were making. 

“What about singing?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Like a choir,” Sarah added, speaking up. Kate shared a look with Lisa. (Her hand went up and those six fucking lines were in Kate’s face.) 

“Singing,” Kate repeated. 

Kate and Lisa shared another look. 

To say it didn’t start off well was an understatement. As much as Kate hated to admit—something she’d started saying more and more to herself—Lisa was right that they sounded like witches summoning a demon. Turnout was low at best and no one could sing. And Lisa insisted on avoiding sheet music. 

It was a cold, October morning when the red tally showed up and Kate almost missed it in her rush to get out the door. 

Thank God she hadn’t. 

The thin red line slowly crept onto her wrist while she was making the coffee and Kate nearly dropped the pot in shock, almost spilling the burning hot liquid all over herself. Fuck. 

A weight dropped in her stomach. She didn’t even need to ask who. Kate knew. She felt herself slowly sinking into a chair, hand over wrist and her first thought was if she had a bracelet thick enough to hide it. 

God. She was _married_ . Oh fuck. She was _straight_. 

This was a mistake. There were instances of that right? People who got tallies for the wrong reasons? It had to be. There was no way Kate was in love with—

She couldn’t even think of it. 

There was no fucking way. 

The next five minutes were spent ripping through her jewellry box searching for a bracelet that would cover both tallies. Seventeen-year-old Kate would’ve been thrilled, she mused as she stumbled upon a heavy, old, very old, in fact, watch that was a gift from Richard when they first married. She chuckled at the irony. 

She was almost late to the choir meeting—a new one for her—only to fine that Lisa was there on the keyboard leading the women through some kind of pop song and Kate immediately felt something inside her burst. She ignored Lisa’s hair and how lovely she looked in a blouse. 

She ignored even more that she was wearing a heavy-set watch and that for the first time in her life, she had two tallies on her wrist. 

Kate rushed out as soon as she could. 

“Hey!” 

She froze. 

“Hey, hey, Kate! I just wanted to talk to you about how we were going to run this,” Lisa said, and Kate wanted to fling something at her. Lisa had taken her tally, marked on Kate’s wrist, taken her sanity, taken her stability with Richard, and now taken her work with the choir. 

“I didn’t realise there was a we with this anymore,” Kate replied frostily, refusing to look at Lisa with her beautiful red hair and bright smile and six goddamn black tallies. 

“This was your bloody idea to begin with!”

“Yes, for you to mobilize the women, but it needs order,” Kate explained, as calmly as she could. She ignored Lisa’s eyes. “This isn’t sober karaoke, it’s to keep their minds busy for one hour, once a week. And organisation, as we know, isn’t your strong suit!” 

Kate stormed off, her watch heavier than normal on her wrist, wishing she had one tally and Lisa wasn’t so fucking annoying and that Richard would come home.

The wine was out of the fridge barely after she stepped through the door. 

She found her tallies were easier to ignore when she wasn’t with Lisa but the red remained searing her mind no matter what. Googling how the hell to conduct a choir helped. Practising in front of the mirror with a makeshift stick she found in the garage that was the remains of a fairy wand that’d belonged to Jamie from an old Halloween costume. 

Sometimes the house was so empty that Kate’d sing just to hear something. 

The next week was better for the choir. Lisa’d brought that ridiculous keyboard with her again but she also brought sheet music and that was enough to placate Kate. The watch stayed on her wrist but she’d wished she could just wrap Lisa’s tallies up in a bag and toss it out the window. 

Slowly, very, very, very, slowly, the choir started to sound better. Less like witches and more like, well, an actual choir and Kate smiled more at practices and was able to ignore the tallies on her hand. 

But then a crash sounded outside of her house and she found Frankie almost passed out drunk in front of her house, stumbling and yelling about all the things you yell about when you’re seventeen and plastered. 

Kate brought her in, vividly reminded of the first Jamie got drunk and how mad she was. What she’d give now to be mad at him for being pissed. 

She called Lisa five times, only to be left to her ringtone and placed Frankie onto her side so she wouldn’t choke on her vomit. Kate gently stroked her hair, soft and thick, and she wondered what Lisa’s hair would feel like. 

“Sorry I didn’t pick up earlier,” Lisa rushed out when she finally knocked on the door, clearly worried. “I was working on some songs for the choir.” 

Kate just nodded and looked at Frankie. “You know, we could just let her sleep it off.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Kate replied. “You know, they’re twice as likely to drink if they see their parents doing so.” 

Lisa just rolled her eyes and said she’d show herself out. It wasn’t until Kate went to bed that she realised she wasn’t wearing her watch. 

The choir limped forward, with Lisa still barging in on everything Kate was doing, but something had changed. Kate couldn’t tell you why, but as they hiked through northern England in the cold and the mud and the wind against their faces, Kate was shoulder to shoulder with Lisa and she couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to just grab Lisa’s hand and hold her chin and pull her in—

But her tally was red and Kate hated it beyond anything else in the world. 

Instead, Lisa suggested that the choir perform in front of everyone and Kate pretended that yes, that was what she was going to say, and yes, that was exactly what was on her mind and no, she wasn’t looking at Lisa’s mouth like that and no, she didn’t think of Lisa that way and no, it absolutely couldn’t work. 

The choir found their sound but Kate still went home to a dark home and empty air and old photographs and a slowly-filling cabinet tucked behind the stairs. Lisa had shown no indication that she’d seen Kate’s tallies, but she still wore her watch to bed just in case. 

The choir became a better distraction day by day. Distraction from Richard in Afghanistan or the fact that she was married with a red fucking tally on her wrist that most certainly wasn’t for the man she’d married, Kate couldn’t say. 

Then top brass came in with an invitation to sing at Albert Hall for the Remembrance Day celebration and everything went out the window for a second. That the work they poured into this had paid off for some reason. 

Kate pushed them harder than ever and this was the one thing that Lisa seemed to agree with. Everyday she wore her watch and not a single of them did Lisa mention anything about Kate’s tallies. And not a single one of them did Lisa cover hers up. 

The performance in the marketplace was a catastrophe but Lisa’s strong words afterwards were enough for Kate to almost want to show her tallies for the world to see. That she was lucky enough to fall for this wonderful, kind, at times a pain in the ass, woman with beautiful red hair and a warm smile. 

(But the weight of her wedding ring told her otherwise and the bright red of her tally was burnt into her mind and Kate went home to a too silent, too clean house.) 

Someone, Kate can’t remember who, but she was willing to bet it was Lisa, dragged the choir out to the bar and for once, Kate was surrounded with noise and lights and music in the evening. Lisa bought her a drink and all Kate could think about was how nice she looked in the neon flashes. 

Until that song came on and Kate was pushed back to four years ago to an alive Jamie and a happy Richard and a life she’d do anything for again and the walls were crashing in, the sound was deafening, and Kate, like with her tallies, simply couldn’t handle. 

She didn’t remember rushing out, but the cold night air shocked her back into reality and she collapsed onto a bench, reminding herself to breathe when Lisa sat down beside her. 

She didn’t remember what caused her to start talking. 

“Jamie sang that song for his eighteenth birthday,” Kate heard herself saying. The music was still pulsing from inside the bar. “He paid me to join him—I was, of course mortified.” 

All Kate could think of was her son’s bright smile and his messy hair and how much he looked like Richard at that age and how much her heart hurt and how much she wished her home was bright when she came back and how much she wished—

“Red, Red told me about how happy he was,” Lisa said and Kate felt her heart crumpling again. 

“We would have a jar of sweets, whenever Richard went on tour, and Jamie would take a sweet a day,” Kate explained. “But what he’d really say was ‘til we laugh again.” 

“That’s lovely.” 

Kate nodded. Her eyes were burning. 

Suddenly, the air was cold again and she was acutely aware of just how close Lisa was sitting to her and how easy it would be to just grab her hand and the walls came crashing down again. 

She shot up, wrapping her coat tighter. 

(She missed her watch slipping and Lisa calling after her.) 

The doorbell rang the next morning and Kate just knew. The sound was loud and clear in her ears, louder and clearer than anything she’d ever heard, and she slowly walked towards the door in a trance, barely noticing the two impeccably-dressed soldiers offering her their condolences. She didn’t even need to look at her wrist. 

Everything was so quiet. 

So fucking _quiet_. 

There was a choir practice later that day. 

Kate went. 

She made the coffee that morning just like any other, she laid out her clothes just like any other, she put on her watch just like any other—

Until it was covering a black tally and a scar. 

It was so fucking quiet. Kate wanted to scream. 

Her heart was beating so loudly in her head she thought it was going to burst. 

She didn’t think she went to choir practice that day. Or the couple days after. She couldn’t remember. She felt herself blindly stumbling towards the fridge, grabbing the singular bottle of wine left, and pouring it straight down her throat. 

It didn’t burn. She wished it did. 

It was so _goddamn_ quiet. 

Her tallies were so dark. So, so dark. 

She later heard that Sarah’s husband was also killed in action. She couldn’t remember from who. She kept her watch firmly on her wrist. 

  
  


There was knock on the door later—that day? Kate wasn’t keeping count—and a crazy part of her thought she had hallucinated the entire time, that Richard actually wasn’t dead and he was coming home and that was him knocking on the door and she didn’t have two black tallies but just one and Jamie was upstairs in bed, waiting for his father to come home—

It was Lisa with her hair bright in the lone light of her porch and Kate felt strong arms wrapped around her and suddenly, everything slipped out of control and her eyes were burning and Lisa’s arms were so, so warm and so, so alive and her house wasn’t fucking empty for once.

She felt Lisa support her to the couch, gently brushing her hair and whispering in her ear.

“Kate, I’m so so sorry,” Lisa whispered as Kate laid in her lap. “I’m here.” 

_You’re here, you’re here, you’re here._

“He wasn’t supposed to go,” she heard herself say. Lisa kept on stroking her hair. “Why did he go?” 

Lisa held onto her tighter. 

“Why did he leave me?” Kate sobbed, clinging onto Lisa. “Why does he get to see Jamie and I don’t?”

“Kate,” Lisa said. She sounded pained. “Please don’t say that.” 

“Why—” Kate sat up. “Why can’t I say that? Why, why can’t I say that?” She hit at Lisa’s thighs. 

“Because I’m here,” Lisa repeated. 

_You’re here, you’re here, you’re here._

Kate felt her eyes drooping. 

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered. 

She fell asleep before she heard Lisa’s reply. 

She woke up to the strong smell of coffee from her kitchen and what seemed like something on fire. 

Wait—

On _fire_? 

Kate rushed up, throwing her blanket off, not even registering that Lisa was still here, that she stayed, that she had broken down completely in the arms of the woman her red—no, not red anymore—tally belonged to. 

“What on Earth?” 

Lisa jumped. 

“You’re up!” 

“What on Earth are you doing?” 

Lisa looked incredibly sheepish. She also looked like she’d barely slept. 

“Making breakfast?” 

Then, she remembered that Lisa had stayed and Lisa was making breakfast in her kitchen and her house wasn’t empty at all and she burst into laughter. 

Lisa smiled at her and turned off the stove. “This isn’t edible, I’m taking us out to eat.” 

Kate was going to say yes. Going to grab her hand and race her out to the car. Until she saw that Lisa’s wrist was covered up and there wasn’t a single tally in sight and Kate froze. 

Her wedding ring felt heavy on her finger and her tallies almost burned on her wrist and Kate remembered that Jamie wasn’t upstairs and Richard wasn’t coming home and Lisa’s fucking tallies weren’t showing and Lisa was burning up her kitchen and Lisa had stayed and Kate simply couldn’t. 

“No, it’s okay,” Kate said firmly. “You can leave now.”

Lisa looked at her surprised. 

“Kate, are you—”

“Please leave.” 

She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her. 

“Kate, I’m sorry I burnt breakfast, come on, you need to eat,” Lisa insisted, touching Kate’s arm. She flinched and Lisa’s hand immediately recoiled. 

“Please,” Kate whispered. “Please go.” 

Because Lisa’s tallies were covered and Jamie was gone and Richard wasn’t coming back and Lisa’s tallies were covered. 

The door closed with a click and Kate rushed upstairs. 

She passed out in bed. 

Lisa rang her doorbell the next day and dragged her out to the choir practice that she told herself she was already going to. She almost forgot her watch. 

The other women gave her condolences she couldn’t remember and hugs that she didn’t want and words that she wanted to scream back at them but she bore it with a smile until she heard Lisa say that they were pulling out of Albert Hall. 

“What?” 

“We just thought that—” Lisa began. 

“No, we can’t leave now, it’s unprofessional,” Kate insisted, but she knew that she couldn’t not have the choir, couldn’t stay home in that empty fucking house with just her and her stupid tallies. 

Everyone looked at her as if she was crazy. 

“Okay,” Lisa said slowly. “I’m sure we can reconsider.” 

“It wouldn’t be right,” Kate almost begged. Lisa glanced at her with a worried look on her face. 

The other wives discussed it and all Kate could think was how goddamn dark her home was and that she had a scar and a black tally on her wrist and how much she wished Richard would come home. 

“So we’ll do it?” Kate interrupted. “It’s much too late now.”

All the women nodded but Lisa’s concerned gaze remained on her for the rest of the day. 

Richard’s funeral crept up faster than expected. She didn’t remember anything about putting it together, anything about how anything was run—the choir was somehow there singing some song Kate didn’t care about and a voice in the back of her head told her it was Lisa, but all she could look at was his coffin and the lid on the coffin and how she had to bury both a husband and a son.

Her watch stayed on her wrist and her wedding band was heavy on her finger. 

She was so cold. Her hands were so cold. She thought they were shaking but she wasn’t sure. 

She didn’t remember much of the ceremony. Strangely, she noticed that it was very sunny out. Too sunny. She remembered being mad at the sun. That the world be so bright without Jamie and Richard. 

Lisa’s hand was on her shoulder and all she could think about was her black tally. 

Lisa said something to her but she didn’t hear. Couldn’t hear. Nothing but loud nothing in her head. 

“Kate, please,” Lisa said. “Let me come with you. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” 

“Lisa,” Kate whispered. “Please, just let me go.”

Lisa’s tallies were still hidden. 

“You asked me to stay.”

Kate froze. 

“Please forget I said that,” Kate said quietly. She couldn’t pull Lisa’s family apart. Couldn’t hurt Frankie just because Jamie and Richard weren’t coming home. Her tally was a mistake. 

(She tried to tell herself that a better world would be one without Lisa, without a red tally, one where Richard didn’t leave and Jamie was alive and she could remember what it was like to step into a home that wasn’t so goddamn empty.) 

“Kate—”

Lisa sounded so broken that Kate couldn’t take it anymore. Hated her goddamn tally, hated that Richard left her, hated that they were stuck in this fucking garrison, that she couldn’t just grab Lisa and kiss her—

Kate wanted to shoot herself just thinking that. She just buried her husband, for Christ’s sake. 

Couldn’t bear to look at Lisa’s concerned face and her bright hair and her warm hands. She still didn’t know what her hair felt like. Kate was sure that it was soft. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Kate, what—”

Kate didn’t hear her. 

She rushed to her car and sped home. Her hands were shaking as she barely got the key into the door and raced upstairs, ripping her watch off, almost scratching at the skin. 

Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror. She looked haggard, she decided. Tired, haggard, and _old_. 

Outlived her son, her husband, and now she had a scar and a black fucking tally on her wrist. 

She stared at it hard. Then harder. 

She tried to remember Richard’s kisses and Richard’s love and what he had said before he’d left and to her horror, she couldn’t. 

Couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like and what his lips felt like and what he wore on days off. 

Her eyes burned and she couldn’t remember grabbing the razor but she could remember the pain and Richard’s voice and Jamie’s laugh and if that’s what it took, she’d gladly do it again. 

Jamie’s smile was the last thing she remembered before the black took over. 

“Kate? Can you open your eyes for me?”

Kate groaned, the brightness of the room blinding her. Someone was holding her hand. Lisa was holding her hand. 

“Hey sleepy-head,” Lisa whispered, brushing Kate’s hair out of her face. She was holding her hand. 

“Wha—”

“Shhh, don’t talk,” Lisa interrupted, shushing her and placing a straw in her mouth. “Drink, you’re thirsty.”

Kate nodded, sipping the water, avoiding Lisa’s bright eyes. Lisa was still holding her hand. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Lisa asked gently. Kate looked around the room, suddenly taking in the white walls and big window and strong scent of antiseptic. 

“I—” 

Images of Jamie, Richard, and her tallies swept by, until Kate covered her mouth with her hand, shocked. 

“I—”

“Shhh, you don’t need to say anything,” Lisa comforted, holding her hand and brushing her hair. Her eyes were bright. Very bright. 

“Lisa, I’m—” Kate choked up. All she could think about was Lisa and _Lisa holding her hand_ and Lisa beside her and her black tally—no, Lisa’s tally. Then she realised her wrist was light without her heavy watch. 

That her watch was taken off. That Lisa was holding her right hand. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Lisa whispered, rubbing her palm. “You’re going to be okay.” 

“Okay,” Kate whispered as Lisa’s soft singing lulled her back to sleep. 

The next time Kate woke up Lisa was gone but Frankie was in her chair. She looked around blearily. Still in hospital. Was it the same day? 

“Don’t worry, Mum’s just stepped out for a second,” Frankie explained. “How you doing?” 

“Tired,” Kate answered honestly. “You didn’t need to come.” 

“Kate,” Frankie said, looking awkward. “You know we care about you, right?” 

Kate nodded. 

“Did your mother find me?” Kate asked. She needed to know. Frankie looked uncomfortable.

“I thought I’d left my hat at your house, you know, when I passed out,” Frankie began. Kate felt her stomach drop. Oh God. No, no, no, no. Oh God. “I asked Mum to text you earlier but when you didn’t respond, I knocked. And—”

“Frankie, I am so sorry,” Kate burst out. “Oh God, I am so sorry—you shouldn’t have seen that, oh my dear,” Kate rambled, sitting up and grabbing Frankie’s hand. “I’m so sorry—”

“Kate,” Frankie said firmly, holding on tightly. “I’ll be okay. You weren’t bleeding too heavily.” 

Kate closed her eyes and leaned back. “Still,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s going to be okay.” 

“Your mother said the same thing,” Kate replied wryly. 

“Well, she’s usually right, isn’t she?” Frankie laughed a little. Kate smiled. 

“Yes, she usually is.” 

Lisa brought her home later that day, insisting on driving. She hadn’t asked about anything further. The ride was silent. Lisa looked so worried Kate thought she was going to goddamn carry her out of the car. 

“Why are you so calm about this?” Kate asked as Lisa opened the door. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” 

Lisa looked up at her. “Do you want me to be mad?”

Kate wanted to throw something. “I—oh God,” Kate said, clamping her mouth shut and looking around frantically. “Oh God, I—”

Lisa immediately grabbed her hand. “Kate, come on, let’s just get to bed,” she said tiredly. 

“Why haven’t you asked me anything?” Kate almost begged. She thought she heard her voice crack. “Why aren’t you mad?” 

“Jesus Christ, Kate—you almost fucking died and you want me to be mad?” Lisa exclaimed, throwing her hands up. 

“I fucked everything up—” 

“Kate, you scared me so bad,” Lisa whispered, her eyes tearing up. Kate almost sobbed. “Why did you try to cut off my tally?” 

Kate froze. The world froze. Lisa looked so beautiful in the dim light of her living room. 

“How did you—”

“I’m not an idiot,” Lisa said, looking at her matter-of-factly. She grabbed Kate’s right hand, gently running her fingers over Kate’s bandage. 

“Then, then why did you cover it up?” Kate asked, unmoving. “Lisa, I’m so sorry—”

“I didn’t want Frankie to know,” Lisa said. “Not yet.” 

“But—”

Lisa stepped closer, pulling Kate towards her. She was so warm. She leaned her forehead against Kate’s. “You scared me so bad,” she whispered. “How could you be so _stupid_ , Kate?” 

“I’m so sorry,” Kate whispered. “So, so sorry. I didn’t know, I thought—” She wrapped an arm around Lisa’s waist. 

“You idiot,” Lisa said, smiling slightly. “I’ve always loved you.” 

Kate just kissed her—kissed her like she’d wanted to for all these months, kissed her like there was no tomorrow, kissed her like she was all Kate had, kissed her like she was coming home, that there was something other than emptiness in her chest, that her tally was the proudest thing in her possession. 

“Can, can you stay with me tonight?” Kate asked. “Not to, just, I don’t want to be alone.” 

Lisa’s eyes softened. 

“Of course,” she replied, taking Kate’s hand and gently kissing the bandage. “Of course.” 

“I love you too,” Kate whispered in her ear. “Please don’t forget that.” 

Lisa laughed. Kate thought it was the loveliest sound in the world. 

“Wouldn’t for the world.” 

Kate pressed a kiss to Lisa’s forehead. As they got ready for bed—Kate tossed Lisa a pair of pajamas—Kate gently took off Lisa’s bracelet, silently asking her for permission. Lisa nodded. 

“I trust you,” she said. And there it was, the seventh, black tally. Her tally. 

“What about Red?” Kate asked quietly. Lisa pointed to the third tally. 

“He’s that one. He doesn’t have any,” Lisa said. Kate looked at her strangely. 

“I’ve never heard of that before,” Kate replied. Lisa shrugged. 

“I haven’t either. He doesn’t have any,” she repeated. Kate kissed Lisa’s tallies. Her tally. 

“I’m sorry,” Kate whispered. “That’s all I’ve been saying this evening, but—”

Lisa silenced her with a kiss. 

They fell asleep in each other’s arms that night. 

Things certainly weren’t perfect after. After some thought, they decided to keep it private for now. It wouldn’t do well to tell Frankie that her mother had shacked up with another woman while her father was away at war. 

And the house still felt empty sometimes, even if Lisa was there. Sometimes Kate thought that there was just always going to be a gap in her heart, not even one that Lisa could fill. 

Kate spent more time with Lisa. She was either at Lisa’s house, or Lisa was at her house, or they were working with the choir together. Sometimes she was cleaning up Lisa’s mess of a living space—something that Frankie really could help with—or listening as Lisa wrote up the choir’s song. She was really lovely when she sang. 

“Do you want to include a line as well? It may help,” Lisa suggested one day, less than one week before Albert Hall. Kate was quiet. 

“I don’t know,” she said. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to,” Lisa said, grabbing her hand. 

“I’ll, I’ll let you know later, okay?” Kate replied and Lisa just nodded. Choir practices passed and gone, each day sounding better and better as Albert Hall loomed closer and closer and it wasn’t until the day before that she showed up in front of Lisa’s door at one in the morning with a determined look on her face. 

“Kate, I do love you, but what the fuck are you doing waking me at 1:00 AM?” Lisa whispered, bleary-eyed. Kate winced. 

“Sorry, but I do want to include a line. Jamie’s line,” she said quickly. Lisa perked up immediately. 

“Okay,” she said. “Come in.” 

“Until we laugh again,” Kate said, grabbing a piece of paper on the ground and writing it down, handing it to Lisa. “Do you need help fitting it in?” She asked nervously. Lisa just smiled. 

“No, I had a feeling about this,” she said, winking. Kate watched as she quickly crossed out a line and replaced it, then kissing Kate swiftly. “Wait, before you leave, I have something to give you. I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but well, I guess it’s tomorrow now.” 

Kate just stared at her. 

Lisa quickly scrambled upstairs and raced back down. Kate just stared at the lyrics on the coffee table. 

“I thought this would help,” Lisa said when she came back, pressing a small box into Lisa’s hand. 

“You—”

“Shhh, just open it,” Lisa said, smiling. Slowly, Kate opened the lid of the very nice box, only to find an even nicer, beautiful, thick, golden bracelet nestled inside. Very simple, very elegant. 

“Lisa, how—”

“For you to cover your tallies, when you want,” Lisa explained simply. Kate smiled so hard she thought her cheeks were going to burst. 

“Lisa, I—” she began, before cutting herself off with a long kiss. Lisa tasted a little like toothpaste, a hint of mouthwash, and a lot like coming home. She leaned her forehead against Lisa’s after. “I love you.” 

“I know, you idiot,” Lisa said back. “Stay?” 

Kate swallowed. “What about Frankie?” 

“Just be up before eight,” Lisa whispered. Kate chuckled. 

“Okay.”

And Kate fell asleep with a warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

They all piled into the bus the next morning, Kate bright-eyed and Lisa somewhat tired and still annoyed that she woke her in the middle of the night. Kate just nudged her with a smile. 

Things weren’t perfect, no, but as the lights came on at Albert Hall and with Lisa standing beside her as she sang Jamie’s words with Richard in her mind, things were looking a whole lot better. Lisa clung to her hand afterwards and Kate’s bracelet shone brightly. 

Things weren’t perfect—Frankie didn’t know, Kate still had to move off base, Red was a whole entire question mark all together—but when she kissed Lisa in the back of the bus whenever everyone had passed out on the ride home, it was pretty darn close. 

**FIN.**

> _“In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.”_ —Virginia Woolf, _Selected Diaries_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! If you did, leave a comment, and I'm always open for prompts on my Tumblr, [ensorcei](https://ensorcei.tumblr.com/) about these two stupid lesbians.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [always the love, always the hours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491083) by [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock)




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